[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 163: Winner

Chapter 163: Chapter 163: Winner

Lucas didn’t move fast. That would’ve been too easy.

No, he shifted slowly, deliberately, dragging one knee back just far enough to shift his weight, his hips still pressing down against Trevor’s. The friction was maddening, warm, and completely unintentional, if one ignored the gleam in his eyes.

His hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, lifting the fabric inch by inch. The motion revealed skin in waves, sweat-dampened, flushed gold in the muted morning light. He didn’t rush it. He let Trevor watch; the shirt caught briefly under his ribs before it was finally peeled away and tossed aside, forgotten.

Trevor’s hands stayed where they were, gripping Lucas’s hips now with enough force to tremble, but he didn’t move. His jaw clenched. His throat bobbed. But his eyes never left Lucas’s.

Lucas smiled, slow and dangerous.

He braced one hand behind himself on Trevor’s thigh and let the other trail down his own chest, fingers brushing lazily over his own skin. His fingertips circled one nipple with the barest pressure, then ghosted lower, dragging over the sensitive line of his stomach with a kind of sensual cruelty that made himself shiver.

But it wasn’t about his own pleasure. Not entirely.

It was about Trevor. The way the alpha’s breath had deepened. The way his nostrils flared at every subtle movement. The way his pupils were swallowed in black.

Lucas rolled his hips once, a slow, grinding motion that pulled a choked sound from both of them, and then, without looking away, he let his fingers dip beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, resting for a moment on the curve of his ass.

Trevor made a sound—low, rough, half-strangled.

Lucas didn’t stop. NovelFire

He kept his gaze locked on Trevor’s, daring, burning, not blinking as his hand moved beneath the fabric. He hissed softly at the contact, his head tipping back for the briefest second before he caught himself and refocused, deliberately staring down at Trevor like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Like this wasn’t a game he intended to win.

His hand moved slowly at first, brushing against the wetness between his buttocks, his hips rocking with each stroke, his breath catching in his throat in half-muffed gasps. His thighs trembled in an effort to remain still, and his body lit up with instinct, heat, and pressure.

But his eyes remained fixed on Trevor.

Trevor, who looked like a man possessed.

The alpha’s hands had curled into fists at Lucas’s hips, knuckles white from restraint. His entire body was tense, vibrating with the need to move, to flip them both over, to take. But he didn’t.

Not yet.

—

Trevor was counting.

Not out loud. Not visibly. But behind those dark, storm-wracked eyes, beneath the taut line of his jaw and the iron grip on his own restraint, he was counting every second.

Four minutes, twenty-three seconds.

Lucas moved like a vision above him, shirtless, sweat-slicked, and flushed all the way down to the curve of his hips. His hand was still working beneath the waistband of his pants, slow and devastatingly precise, and his breath had gone ragged. Every little gasp he let slip, every shift of his thighs, every flicker of pleasure that crossed his face, it all landed on Trevor like a brand.

Four minutes, forty-five seconds.

Trevor’s grip on Lucas’s hips had turned bruising, though he hadn’t pulled him closer. Not yet. He couldn’t. He’d made a promise. And if Lucas was going to play with fire, then Trevor would let him feel the burn the moment the match went out.

Lucas rolled his hips again, moaning softly now, head tipping back, curls sticking to his forehead, his free hand braced on alpha’s hip for balance. Trevor’s gaze dropped briefly, just a flicker, to the waistband straining under the tension of Lucas’s movement.

Four minutes, fifty-nine.

Lucas leaned forward, dragging his hand up his own chest, eyes blown wide and mouth parted as he looked down at Trevor, voice shaking with a blend of triumph and raw need. "You’re about to lose."

Five minutes.

Trevor moved.

In one swift, clean motion, he sat up, hands gripping Lucas’s thighs as he surged forward, twisting and reversing their positions in a blur of heat and motion. Lucas let out a gasp, half surprise, half delight, as his back hit the sheets, Trevor now looming over him, above him, his arms braced on either side, his body caging Lucas in without hesitation.

"I never lose," Trevor said, his voice low and dark and edged with the kind of hunger that made Lucas’s breath hitch.

Lucas blinked up at him, his hand still caught in the waistband of his pants, lips kiss-swollen and hair tousled, utterly wrecked and still somehow smug. "You were counting."

"Down to the second." Trevor’s voice was a growl now, but restrained, barely. "You think I’d let you win without consequence?"

Trevor leaned in close, so close that their noses brushed, his breath hot against Lucas’s cheek. The weight of him wasn’t crushing but inescapable, the physical embodiment of control barely held in check. Lucas could feel every taut muscle above him, every tremble of Trevor’s restraint in the fingers still pressed into his thighs.

"You think I’d let you win without consequence?" Trevor repeated, slower this time, his voice roughened by arousal and his own rut starting to boil. "You baited me, undressed in my lap, touched yourself right in front of me—" He dipped lower, lips grazing Lucas’s jaw, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And then dared me not to react." NovelFire

Lucas sucked in a breath, his smugness faltering just enough for Trevor to feel the shift.

He grinned against his skin. There it was.

Trevor’s hand slid down, slow and unforgiving, taking hold of Lucas’s wrist and lifting it above his head, pinning it easily to the sheets. His other hand followed, catching Lucas’s waistband and dragging it down just enough to bare the slick heat he’d been teasing. The moment the fabric shifted, the omega shuddered violently, every inch of him flushed and aching.

"You wanted control?" Trevor murmured against the shell of Lucas’s ear. "You wanted to push me past my limit? Congratulations. You did."

Lucas didn’t respond. Couldn’t. His throat was tight with heat, with the tremble of anticipation, with the delicious terror of having his bluff called and answered perfectly.

Trevor shifted again, letting his thigh press between Lucas’s legs, spreading him further, his weight anchoring him into the mattress. Then he finally looked down at him, purple eyes burning, jaw set like he was preparing for war and worship at once.

Trevor didn’t rush; his prize wasn’t going anywhere, and Lucas, bless him, had no idea that his alpha was always winning.